The Coolest Girl
by Sweetly Sarcastic
Summary: Tonks was the coolest girl in the world, according to Charlie, age 4. And still at age 34. It's just that everything else he feels about her changes in between.
1. Hogwarts

She was just about the coolest girl in the world. At least, in the opinion of Charlie Weasley, age 4. He didn't know all that many people in the world, but he'd put his tooth fairy money on the fact that she was the coolest.

She was good at climbing trees. And swimming. And wasn't afraid of garden snakes or broomsticks or dragons (although she had never met one; at least she wasn't afraid of the _idea_ of dragons). And one time she had tickled a garden gnome _and didn't even get her finger bit_. And she didn't tease him like Bill did, and one time, had even hit Bill for his teasing. She had gotten sent to time out for that, and hadn't been upset, just looked up at her mum with her hands on her hips and said "anything else, Andromeda?" She had gotten time out longer for that but didn't even care.

And then there was her hair. It was patchy and weird and all sorts of different colors and lengths and textures because she was still learning how to change it. But it was so cool! She would squish up her face and then suddenly different colors would pop out of her head! When she was really tired before naptime it would just be brown but it was a nice brown and then when she woke up if she thought _really_ hard she could sometimes turn the whole thing pink!

But she wasn't like the other girls he knew. He didn't know very many but there were his aunts, who were always oohing and aahing over the stupid baby, and there was his cousins, but they just wanted to play dolls.

She had a doll too, but hers was a baby doll, and it didn't cry like his baby brother, so it was ok. He liked playing dolls with her because she just had the one doll and didn't spend all her time changing its clothes and making up stories about it and the other dolls; with her, he got to pretend cool things too. Sometimes they would build a little house in his backyard and she would pretend that she was the doll's mummy and he would pretend to be the daddy and they would be married and he would go to work playing quidditch. And she would kiss him, but not when Bill could see.

He had been the one to name her "Tonks". There was no way he could ever have said "Nymphadora" before the age of 7, and he needed to get her attention sometimes! Especially when they were married.

She was the coolest. And she was his best friend. And he loved her. Not like his mum and his dad loved each other, but almost.

* * *

They had gotten their letters to Hogwarts a few weeks apart. Bill had been teasing him mercilessly for weeks that he wouldn't get a letter and that he was going to be sent off with a tin of food and directions to the nearest muggle town and that another baby would take his room. He had always told Bill to bug off but inside he was scared, and she was the only one he told.

They were talking about how nervous they were for their eleventh birthdays, hiding in the field where it was so cold that no one else would come find them, when Bill came and found them anyway.

"I heard everyone else got their letter yesterday," Bill said with confidence. "Where's yours?"

They should have called him out on it, because everyone knew that Hogwarts only sent you a letter on your eleventh birthday, no sooner and no later, and Bill was a mean 13 year old, but he was so confident that they were petrified, and then Tonks started to cry, at first just a little but then a lot.

Bill and Charlie looked at each other in confusion and then Charlie stood up and punched his brother in the jaw. "Leave her alone!" He told his brother.

For once it worked. Bill left, slightly shocked, probably to tell on him, and Charlie sat back down next to Tonks and wrapped his arms around her.

"It's ok, Tonks. Bill's a mean liar. Everyone knows that you only get your Hogwarts letter on your eleventh birthday. That's in January for you. It doesn't mean anything."

Her crying slowed but did not stop. "I'm just so scared," she admitted. "My dad's family are muggles. What if I am too? Everyone else I know are wizards. All I want to do is go to Hogwarts. All I know is this world. I don't want to be a muggle and go to a muggle school and have no friends."

He laughed and she glared through her tears. He tugged gently on a brown lock of hair. "Do you really think that you'd be able to change the color of your hair like that if you weren't a witch?" He asked. "You have nothing to worry about, Tonks."

That caught her attention. She stopped crying a moment. "Do you really think?" She asked, just barely daring to be hopeful. He nodded, but she frowned again. "But what if, Charlie? What if there's something wrong with me and I can do that but I'm still not a witch."

He looked at her carefully a moment and he considered. "You're my best friend," he said finally. "Let's my a deal. We won't go to Hogwarts without each other. If you're not a witch I'll go to muggle school with you and you'll know me and I'll be your friend."

She wiped her tears with her sleeves and looked at him earnestly. "Really, Charlie? You would do that for me?"

"Would you to that for me?" He countered her question with a question.

She smiled. "Yes. Of course I would."

He smiled back. "Then I would too."

* * *

A few months later, they were a whole different kind of nervous about which house they would be placed in. All of her mum's family had been in Slytherin, but he had assured her that she was too good to ever be in Slytherin, and that even if she was, he would still be her friend. Although he wouldn't talk to any of her other friends. And he would beat her at Quidditch.

He was sure he would be in Gryffindor, but he was also terrified that he wouldn't be and that he would disappoint all of his family forever. Bill didn't make things any easier, as usual.

He held her hand in the Great Hall before they were sorted and didn't think about who saw, but it helped that she had reached for his hand first. He let go when her name was called, and when she was declared a Hufflepuff, he breathed a sigh of relief for her. She was beaming and she smiled at him before she sat down. For a minute, Hufflepuff didn't seem like such a bad option.

He was a Gryffindor. He caught her eye across the Great Hall and she smiled at him again but it was a sadder smile. Her worst fears had not been realized, but still, it would have been nice to be in his house.

It wasn't like they never saw each other. They saw each other more than they had before Hogwarts, but not as much as they could have, if they had been in the same house. They were in all the same classes, just sometimes at different times, and would study together in the library. They were very serious about their studies—for about the first month of school. They did not take it lightly that they were at Hogwarts together. They ate together in the Great Hall together sometimes, one braving to sit at the other's table, and they practiced Quidditch together on the weekends. They were making more friends, but they were still each other's best friends, and it was good.

* * *

She was his first kiss. There were the times when they were four, yes, but then also, she was his first real kiss.

It was their third year. She was finally starting to master her metamorphosis abilities and had made her hair hot pink with red hearts to celebrate Valentine's Day. It was the coolest thing he had ever seen, and she later admitted to having practiced for weeks on it.

They had gone for a walk to talk about how stupid all their classmates—_and even Bill_—were, giving each other gooey looks and getting soft and mushy and altogether _boring_. They recounted gag-inducing scenes they had witnessed the day, and it was almost good that they had been in different houses, because they had lots of stories to share.

They snuck back into the castle past curfew, but he walked her back to the Hufflepuff common room anyway.

She suddenly looked sheepish at the door. "Could I ask you something?" She asked shyly, but then warned "don't laugh."

He nodded. "Of course."

"I've never been kissed," she said to her shoes. "And I don't really fancy anybody. And nobody really fancies me. But I was wondering if you would be my first kiss, because you're my best friend, and I don't know anything about kissing, and it's Valentine's Day, and everyone else is kissing."

He studied her a moment. He was slightly surprised, but not shocked. He had been curious about kissing too, but was in her same boat: of all the birds at Hogwarts, she was the only one he even talked to.

"Ok." He said. There was a long pause, then "…what do I do?"

"I think we stand really close together," she started.

"Ok." He scooted closer to her, until their toes were touching and he was looking right into her eyes and it looked like one big eye instead of two.

"And then you tilt your head to the side."

"Ok." He tilted his head to the left.

"And close your eyes."

"How do I know where you are if you close your eyes?" He asked.

She rolled her one eye. "I'm right here, silly," she said.

"But how do I find your _lips_?" He asked.

"Hm…." She worried her lip while she thought. "Ok. Eyes open. But later when you kiss someone else, you're supposed to keep them shut. Don't forget that."

"Ok."

"Ok."

And then he leaned forward and kissed her.

It lasted all of half a second. But his lips had met hers and her lips were soft.

"That was nice." She said.

"Yeah," he agreed. And then he leaned in again, and this time he closed his eyes when he kissed her.

* * *

The one big downside of your best friend being a different house was that meant that you had to play them in Quidditch, at least once a year. It helped, at least, that their positions didn't interact much: he was a seeker, and she was a keeper. Somehow, it was the one position she could manage even with her lack of coordination (with a lot of practice and help from him). They usually didn't have to face off against each other during the game, and would sometimes practice flying together, although not very openly for fear of their team's wrath.

But they still looked out for each other. And so in their fourth year, when Hufflepuff played Gryffindor, they found themselves with a dilemma: Hufflepuff was trying to use Tonks to distract him.

The Hufflepuff beaters would "accidentally" let the bludgers get too close to Tonks and in the second that he glanced at her to make sure she was ok, he would lose sight of the snitch.

It was clear that Tonks had not been consulted when her captain had come up with this strategy. She kept shooting him nasty looks. And her hair was an angry, fiery red. Almost Weasley red, really.

But it was an effective strategy, Charlie would give them that. Although maybe the dirtiest, most underhanded thing a Hufflepuff had ever done. The Hufflepuff seeker wasn't very good and finding the snitch really depended on Charlie; if Hufflepuff managed to score enough before he found it, he would end the game but they would win. And they were getting close.

He watched her dodge another bludger aimed at her head and then he saw it, glittering just over her left ear. He was on the other side of the pitch but he raced towards it and she looked it at him in surprise, and then he was passed her, and following the snitch as it circled behind the goal posts, dropping lower and forcing him to dive-

When he opened his eyes, she was the first thing he saw. She was blurry and there were two of her and then one and then two again. She was saying something but he couldn't hear anything. The world was quiet. He couldn't hear or feel anything, but he could see her, leaning over him. Her intensely blue eyes. Her black hair. The entire world at that moment was just her. She was so beautiful.

The sound came back slowly. At first it was just her voice floating through. It sounded like she was talking to him underwater like when they played in the lake when they were kids.

"Charlie…" she was saying his name, over and over again. "Charlie!"

She got closer to him in the water and then they surfaced and he could hear her clearly, and behind her, the noise and clatter from the rest of the stadium began to swell. There were people near him talking and yelling, and beyond that, the whole school in the stadium, stomping and yelling.

All at once, he began to feel again. His entire body exploded with aches and pains, his shoulder worst of all, although his head was throbbing madly. It hurt too much to scream or cry. It was a shocking and abrupt resurface from floating in the lake.

"Charlie, love, say something, please," Tonks was begging him. Her hand was fluttering to pat his head, his shoulder, to verify that he was there, he was in one piece.

He looked up at her dumbly. "What happened to the snitch?" He asked.

She smiled and barked a laugh. "It's in your other hand, love."

He looked down. His right hand was clutched tightly in hers, but his left had crumpled the snitch in his fist.

"Gryffindor won?" He asked, ignoring the pain in all of his body.

She nodded. "Gryffindor won. _Although not by much_," she added, her Hufflepuff pride kicking in. She reached out and clipped his chin. "Takes a bludger to the shoulder and falls 20 feet, wakes up minutes later and first asks about the game. They'll make a captain of you yet, Charlie Weasley."

He laughed weakly but his ribs ached. Tonks was suddenly being pushed aside by Madam Pomfrey but clung stubbornly to his hand. "Ms. Tonks, give him some space please, if you will," Madam Pomfrey barked.

"I won't," Tonks retorted curtly and as Madam Pomfrey levitated him carefully up to the hospital wing. She walked beside him the whole way, keeping hold of his hand.

She stayed by his side while he was tended to with potions and salves. She let him squeeze the life out of her hand when it was particularly painful, and she distracted him by recounting everything that had happened between when the bludger hit and when he woke up. He still didn't know how she, halfway across the pitch, had managed to be the first person to him, but he didn't ask.

She sat with him until the Gryffindor team finally saw fit to make an appearance, and while he celebrated with his teammates, she slipped out of the room and finally showered and changed.

She didn't bother using the main door when she came back. She knew Madam Pomfrey would have taken extra care to lock it. So when she had gone back to the Quidditch pitch to change, she had borrowed a school broom and shrunk it—she didn't trust her shrinking charms enough to try on her own broom—and brought it up with her. A few minutes after curfew, when she knew Madam Pomfrey would have kicked out the Gryffindors, she opened a window in her dormitory.

"You'll get in trouble" Hestia Meade warned. Tonks responded only by sticking out her tongue.

A minute later, Tonks was outside the window of the infirmary. The lights were off, which she took as a good sign. She found the window she had surreptitiously unlatched earlier that day and gently pushed it open. There was just enough space for her to slide through.

"Wotcher, Charlie," she greeted him as she crashed tumbled through the window. She had never even bothered to hope she would pull off a graceful entrance.

He sat up in bed. "Hey," he responded. "You know, that just may be why Gryffindor won today" he teased.

"Ha ha ha." She retorted sarcastically as she stood up and shut the window.

He frowned a moment. "But really, Tonks. He shouldn't have used you like that. 'Distract Charlie by letting Tonks get hurt' is a terrible strategy. You're ok?"

She nodded as she made her way over. "I happen to agree. It was very Slytherin. The team took a vote and decided that it was 'decidedly unfriendly and disloyal' and recited the Hufflepuff motto again together."

He laughed. "You're kidding. Did they also sing nursery rhymes and hold hands and dance in a circle?"

"Oh of course. And then they sacrificed their balls to the badger gods and gave up any self-pride they had left."

He laughed again. "Shoulda been in Gryffindor," he told her.

"And get stuck with your ugly face even more? I'd rather be in Slytherin," she taunted. "How is your ugly face, by the way? Feeling better?"

"I don't know what ugly face you're talking about, but _my _face is doing well, thank you. As if my shoulder and my back and all the rest of me. I have one more round of potions and then I get to go back tomorrow."

"Ok. Good," she kicked off her shoes and pulled off her sweater. "Scoot over," she said, and he obliged so she could slide in beside him. He threw the thick wool blankets over her too.

"You didn't have to come, you know," he said. "I mean, I'm glad you're here, but I would have been ok. You were by my side for the worst of it, anyway."

She nodded. "I know. But you're my best friend, and it's not like I'm particularly fond of Hufflepuffs right now. Nor they me."

"Sorry," he said. He felt slightly guilty. They didn't like her because his team had won. "It's weird playing against you in Quidditch," he admitted. "It's not just you and me playing in the orchard with friendly competition anymore. People on my team actually want to hurt you. I don't like it."

She smiled. "People on _my _team want to hurt me. I don't like it either. But careful, Weasley, I'm about to think you're going soft on me."

"Shuddup, Tonks. Go to sleep."

She laughed but she was tired. "Goodnight, Charlie."

He kissed the back of her head. Her hair had turned a rosy shade of pink. "Goodnight, Tonks."

He woke up first, early in the morning, and realized two things, in quick succession: first, that she was absolutely lovely; second, that he had an erection pressed against her bum.

He panicked a little bit. He jostled her awake, hoping she wouldn't notice. "I think I hear Madam Pomfrey coming!" He told her urgently and she scrambled out of bed, haphazardly pulled her jumper back over her head and catapulted herself out of the window. She nearly gave him a heart attack until he saw her fly by, a blur of pink in a far window.

He fell back in bed, relieved, but then looked down again. _Shit_.

* * *

He looked out for her too, though.

He noticed when she left the Great Hall at lunch by herself on a Saturday and was followed out of the hall a few moments later by a few Slytherins. He recognized them as Slytherin quidditch players, against whom she had played a perfect game the week before. Slytherin had not made a single shot—he was damn proud of her, and also nervous, because Slytherin had been viciously unhappy about it.

He didn't even think about it. He followed them out of the hall immediately, his wand tucked into his robe. He didn't trust them. Especially not with her.

He lost sight of them momentarily but followed their footsteps onto the route to the Hufflepuff common room. He didn't know if they knew where it was already, but he didn't want them to find out—even if they didn't hurt her that day, if they knew where the Hufflepuff common room was, they could ambush her later. He sped up.

He rounded a corner just in time to see one of them hit her with a spell. It hit her left shoulder, and she fell, landing hard on the stone floor. Her wand began to roll away from her and she was scrambling to grab it when Charlie hexed one of the morons, and then the other. They were momentarily surprised, and ran passed them and planted himself in front of her. He didn't take his eyes off of them, but he reached back to help her up even as he shifted into his dueling stance.

He cast the first curse. "Only fucking assholes hex when their opponents back is turned," he snarled, and emphasized his point by cursing the other. She was still behind him, casting weak shield charms to protect him. "Are you alright, Tonks?" He asked gently.

He dodged a hex that broke the shield and responded with another hex that met its mark. "Fucking wankers!" He shouted at them. "Really, Tonks, are you ok?" He asked again, his free hand grabbing hers and squeezing softly.

It was comical, really. He was so sweet and concerned about her, and then a moment later snarling at them.

He hit them with another hex each, and they ran away. He wanted to chase them, to push them into the middle of the great lake or send them running into the Whomping Willow, but instead, he stopped. She was still there. She was starting to cry a little, since they weren't there to see anymore and make fun of her. It was just him, and he wouldn't laugh at her crying.

As soon as he was sure they were really gone, he turned to hug her tightly.

"It's ok," he promised. "You're ok. No one's going to hurt you."

She sniffled and nodded. "Thanks, Charlie."

"Of course," he clipped her chin. "No one gets to torment you but me. Are you feeling alright? Does anything hurt?"

She shook her head but then nodded. "My shoulder…I landed on it pretty hard."

He slipped his hand into the collar of her jumper and felt the back of her shoulder blade tenderly. "You're not bleeding," he told her. "Not even scratched. But you'll probably bruise. Do you want ice or anything?"

She shook her head. "No. I'll be ok."

"Brave girl," he told her. "Shoulda been in Gryffindor."

She laughed. "Clearly, Gryffindor is not all that great if they let in the likes of you."

He made a face at her but hugged her anyway. "Come on, you terrible, mean girl—what do you say to some Quidditch practice? I'll go easy on you."

She laughed. "You're a liar, Charlie Weasley, but you're on."

They made their way down to the Quidditch pitch, and it was a long time until either noticed that they were still holding hands, and a longer time still until either let go.

* * *

They had fun, too. They weren't as good with pranks as Fred and George, but their pranks were still clever.

They had been the ones to ice the steps down to the Quidditch pitch the night before it was supposed to snow, the night before the Slytherin team was set to begin their highly boasted six-hour practices in their "quest to destroy anything and everything on a broom during the finals," as Slytherin's captain had bragged at dinner one night.

The team didn't see the ice under the snow and instead three players spent the morning with Madam Pomfrey while two had an awkward fall together and couldn't look each other in the eye for the rest of the term.

Tonks and Charlie had laughed for hours, watching from their strategic vantage point in a tower.

She was also good at dares. It had been eating bugs when they were kids, but by their fifth year, they were matching each other for shots of firewhiskey that the Gryffindor Quidditch players snuck in. They had an unspoken rule that she was basically a Gryffindor except for the weeks before and after a match—longer, if Hufflepuff won.

She had been the one to dare him to jump in the Great Lake one midnight after Gryffindor beat Slytherin. He had been the one to make her _skinny dip_ in the Great Lake. He had only peeked a little but nearly hexed Bill, who had peeked a lot.

* * *

In the winter of their sixth year, he kissed her outright, without preamble. One moment they cuddled in the snow on the banks of the Great Lake, tossing bread crumbs onto the ice to watch the owls dive for it only to be diverted by the Giant Squid, and the next he had pressed his mouth against hers.

It wasn't like third year. This time he meant something by it. He kissed her hard at first, kissing her for all the years he hadn't been kissing her when he had wanted to, even if he didn't know he wanted to. He kissed her for all that he wanted to kiss her later that he didn't know if he would be able to.

And then he kissed her just for that moment, and for how warm and soft her lips were, and how nice she felt cuddled into his side, in his arms, and how wonderful it was that she was kissing back—_because she was kissing back! _

She was kissing him back and her hands were drifting over his back, around his arms, her fingertips touching bare skin where she could find it. She was kissing him back and she was letting him slide over her, his knee between hers and her chest pressed against him.

It was the most wonderful ninety three seconds of his life. And then she pulled away to breathe and she smiled at him and her eyes were swirling a warm caramel then sparkling blue then jewel green and he panicked.

He was halfway to the Gryffindor common room before he even realized he had left her.

* * *

Time suddenly divided for Charlie into three distinct blocks: first there had been the time Before Kiss, then the time Of Kiss, and his future opened up ominously before him as all the time After Kiss.

Before Kiss, was a time in which she had been his best friend, and he was beginning to realize that at some point Before Kiss, he had fallen in love with her.

Of Kiss had been the best ninety three seconds of his life. It was an incredibly short amount of time but it still got it's own label, it's own title in the chronology of his life, because it had been the best, most important, time of his life.

After Kiss, in contrast, was one of the worst times in his life. She wasn't talking to him anymore. He was failing Defense of Against the Dark Arts without her help (and he suspected she was failing Care of Magical Creatures, and she had only taken it to spend time with him in the first place anyway). He had friends in Gryffindor, friends he studied with, friends he played exploding snap with, friends he played Quidditch with, but he didn't have his best friend anymore, and he was damn lonely.

And upset. With himself. And her. He hadn't decided yet if the problem was that he had kissed her, or the problem was that he had kissed her and the run away. She wasn't showing up to meals in the Great Hall and wasn't looking at him when they had class together. And her hair had been the most dismal shade of brown for days.

He was lonely. And upset. And confused. But in love, also, he knew, and that somehow made it all worse.

* * *

Fucking Bill asked her to the Yule Ball.

He had noticed her hair had turned purple, her quirky-but-not-quite-happy color she sometimes sported, but he just assumed she was starting to feel better about his Great Muck Up. It wasn't until he heard _other people_ talking about it that he found out Bill had asked her and she had said yes. His brother was taking the girl he loved to the Yule Ball and he had to find out through _other people_.

He was nothing short of livid. So he had asked some other Hufflepuff girl because _he could ask people to the Yule Ball too, damnit_.

Then night of the Yule Ball, he was a miserable pounce. He hardly looked at his date, although he did growl at her that she looked nice when he picked her up, and spent most of the night tracking Bill and Tonks, making sure he was keepin his hands to himself.

But Bill wasn't. He was dancing crazily with Tonks, spinning and dipping her and they were both laughing and it was awful. At one point, it looked like Bill was going to kiss her, and that was it. Charlie abandoned his date and stalked over to the happy couple.

"Charlie," Bill greeted him with a nod but Charlie didn't respond to his brother.

"Tonks," he said curtly. "A word, please?"

She glared at him. "No, I don't think so. I'm having a lovely time right here with Bill, actually."

"Like hell you are," he snarled, and grabbed her arm and pulled her away.

"Oy!" Bill called after them. "You can't just haul off my date like a Neanderthal!"

Charlie continued to drag Tonks out of the Great Hall. He didn't stop until they were alone in the corridor.

"Charlie," she hissed. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"What the fuck are _you_ doing?" He shouted. "Letting Bill touch you like that!"

"I can do what I damn please!" She yelled back. "Maybe I wanted Bill to touch me!"

"No you fucking didn't," he cursed at her.

"Maybe Bill's not a bloody pounce!"

"Shuddup, Tonks!"

"NO!" She yelled. "Maybe I fancy Bill! Maybe I find him more of a man than you!"

"You're bloody insane!"

"In fact, maybe I find every other bloke in this damn school a finer man than you, Charlie Weasley!" She continued, her hair a fiery, angry, red.

"You fucking _don't," _

"I fucking _do_," she retorted. "Of course I do! Because no other bloke at Hogwarts would have kissed a bird and then just _run away like a fucking coward_."

"I'm sorry, ok!" He yelled. "I'm really fucking sorry!"

"That's not enough! It's not ok, you twit!"

He snapped and he couldn't help himself, he stepped forward and pushed her against a wall and kissed her, hard, on the mouth. It was an angry kiss but it was almost as nice as those ninety three seconds in the snow and then she hauled back her arm and slapped him solidly across the face.

"What the fuck," he growled at her.

"No, Charlie Weasley, you don't get to kiss me in the snow and then leave me and not speak to me for _weeks _and then interrupt my lovely time at the Yule ball to yell at me and kiss me again! You're such a fucking bastard!"

She tried to slap him again but he grabbed her arm.

"I'm sorry, Tonks, ok!" He yelled. "I'm fucking sorry about all of those things!" He took a breath. "Well, I'm not sorry about kissing you. It was the best ninety three seconds of my life. But I'm sorry I freaked out and panicked, and I'm sorry I ran away, and I'm sorry I didn't talk to you, and I'm sorry I didn't ask you to the Yule Ball myself. Ok? Is that enough?" His voice hitched and he was yelling again. He took a deeper breathe and tried again. "I'm sorry. I've never been sorrier. I know I'm a twit and a bastard. But I have feelings for you that scared me, I think, and I panicked, but I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I hurt you."

She had started to cry a tiny bit and he brushed the tears out of her eyes. "Hey," he whispered. "None of that now." Her hair was the softest shade of pink and his angry had dissipated entirely. She was right there in front of him, and she wasn't yelling at him anymore, and she was so lovely.

He held her tightly. He could smell her shampoo, fruit and flowers, a bright, sweet smell, and he could feel her curves against him and he wondered how he could have run away from her in the first place.

"I'm going to kiss you again, alright?" He whispered.

Her eyes were wide but she wasn't crying anymore and she nodded. "No running away again."

He nodded. "No running away again," he murmured and then closed the space between them.

This time, there was no hardness in their kiss. It was soft and sweet. He could taste the butterbeer on her lips and ran his tongue over the broken spot she always worried when she was stressed.

They broke apart to breathe and he looked into her eyes. They were the nicest shade of amber he had ever seen.

"I'm in love with you, Tonks," he whispered in her ear and then kissed her cheek.

She kissed him quick on the mouth and then pulled away to look at him. "I love you too," she whispered and then peppered his face with kisses until her caught her mouth with his again and brought it into a deep kiss.

He pushed her back against the wall and she didn't resist this time but kissed him back eagerly. Her hands slipped under his shirt and started tracing symbols on his back and he had a hand on her thigh that progressed slowly upwards and if she kept making those noises he might never let her go.

When he was kissing her, the rest of the world didn't exist. He couldn't hear the band, still playing in the Great Hall, couldn't feel the cold of the stone wall they were leaned against.

It wasn't until Bill's friend Patrick passed and wolf-whistled them that Charlie remembered where they were. "About time, Romeo!" Patrick shouted.

Charlie pulled away from her and smoothed her skirt down her leg. "Do you want to go somewhere else?" He asked breathlessly.

She nodded. Without really thinking about it, he let her to the Room of Requirement.

It was that night that he discovered something absolutely fascinating about her: when she was in the throes of passion, as they say, her hair whirled through a rainbow of colors, vibrant and bold. It was like watching fireworks. It was the most magical thing he had ever seen—and he was a wizard.

* * *

They spent the rest of weekend together, mostly in the Room of Requirement. They snuck out a few times to weasel food out of the House Elves, and then again to go snog on the astronomy tower for a change of scenery. It was the best weekend of his life, even including the weekend the term before when he had beat Slytherine in the final match. He was in the love with her and she was in love with him and he got to kiss her whenever he wanted.

She gave him a long goodbye kiss when he walked her back to her common room Sunday night and then he made his way back to the Gryffindor tower for the first time in days.

His mood damped considerably when he walked in and found Bill hanging out in the common room with Patrick and the twins.

"Oy, it's our Casanova, back from his romantic adventures!" Patrick teased.

"Shut it," Charlie shot back, his ears turning red.

"Our little Charlie," Fred cooed.

"is in love!" George finished.

"Took long enough," Fred finished.

"Come on now, it wasn't that obvious," Charlie argued.

"No," George agreed.

"Probably there were a few dungeon trolls who didn't know," Fred followed.

"And Slytherins," George added.

Fred frowned. "That's what I said, George."

Bill laughed. "Congratulations, Charlie. At any rate."

Charlie frowned. He hadn't forgotten the way Bill had been looking at Tonks, the way he had been touching her. "Bill," he greeted his curtly.

"Come on now, Charlie, don't be sore," Bill goaded.

"I'm not." Charlie argued, but he was.

"As angry as you are with me, can you name one other bloke who would have given up his final Yule Ball—_his last chance pull dress robes off a girl behind the humpbacked statute—_just to make sure that no other bloke got to the bird his idiot little brother is in love with but was too dumb and obstinate to do anything about it?"

It was in that moment that Charlie knew Bill was the best brother he had ever had.

* * *

Things between them were fantastic for 10 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days. She visited him over the Christmas holidays at the Burrow. She got her very own Weasley sweater in canary yellow, which he did not hesitate to pull off her when he got her alone. Over the summer, he stayed with her family at her muggle grandmum's on the coast, and he got her to skinny dip again, except that this time he went with her, and no one else was peeking.

She was amazing. Just as mad for him as he was for her, but good for a laugh at a moment's notice too. She was so much cooler than his other friend's girlfriends, who nagged and fought. He and Tonks didn't disagree about much, House rivalry aside, and his biggest complaint was that she was always giving him a heart attack, tripping down stairs, blowing up potions, panicking in care of magical creatures. But they were heart attacks he didn't really mind.

But he was keeping a secret from her, in part because he was afraid of how she would react, and in part because he didn't know how to explain it, because he didn't even know exactly how he felt about it. But it didn't end up mattering, because on the 4th day of the second week of the 10th month they had begun dating, she found out anyway.

She was sitting next to him at the Gryffindor table on a Saturday morning, wearing his sweater and helping herself to his toast once he'd buttered it, when the owl came.

He didn't think anything of it when she reached over and grabbed his letter. His own hands were occupied with his scrambled eggs. "It's heavy," she proclaimed and gave it an appraising look. "It's Playwizard magazine, isn't it, you dirty perve?" She teased him and turned it over to look at the address. "Romania? Who's sending you mail from Romania?"

He knew immediately and his fork clattered loudly when he dropped it. "Give it here, Tonks," he said, and tried to pull it from her, but she pulled back and frowned.

"Why? What's the matter?"

"Just—it's not important. Give it here," he coaxed, but she wouldn't let go.

"Clearly it is. What is it?" She asked and tried to yank it away from him.

The envelope ripped and he grabbed the letter inside when it fell. There were a few things he could have done. He chose the least mature and tried to run.

She followed him but stumbled over the bench and he got a good lead.

He ran from the Great Hall but didn't know where to go. She knew the password to the Gryffindor common room and he wouldn't be able to keep ahead of her for long. Already she was at the end of the corridor.

"You fucking wanker!" she yelled. "What the fuck are you hiding from me, Charlie Weasley!"

He raced up the stairs but she wasn't far behind. He was hesitating on the second landing, trying to decide where to go, when she outright tackled him.

They landed hard on the stone floor and it knocked the air out of his lungs. She was already scrambling for the letter, just a smidge out of his reach. He grabbed her leg and yanked her away but she twisted and kicked him in the stomach with her other foot, none too gently, and he cursed at her and grabbed at her leg again.

"Bloody hell, woman," he growled.

He managed to get up just enough to launch himself on top of her, sprawled over her stomach. He reached for her arm, extended towards the letter, and yanked it down. She pulled his hair and he bit her side before rocked violently and he sprawled back on the stone ground.

"Fuck off," she grunted.

She managed to grab the letter and rolled away from him began to read it quickly. Her legs slowly stopped kicking at him and her eyes were a dull grey when he pulled the letter out of her hands. The look on her face told him what it said.

"Romania, Charlie?" She asked quietly.

He sat up on the ground and tried to help her up as well but she shrugged off his hands. "It was a long shot," he said defensively.

They stared at each other. She knew. He knew she knew, now. He stared at her and they caught their breath, their chests heaving from the exertion of fighting, and they waited for the other to say something, but she broke first.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know how to," he admitted. "I didn't even think I would get in. And even if I did I wasn't sure I wanted to go. Telling you would have made it seem like a bigger deal than it was."

"It _is _a big deal," she protested. She looked like she was about to cry or about to kick him again or both.

"I probably won't even take it," he said.

"You're lying," she said, and he knew she was right.

He couldn't defend himself to her. There were no words. So he leaned forward and kissed her, hard, trying to tell her that he still loved her, no matter what, kissing her for all the times he might not be able to kiss her later.

For the second time in their lives, she slapped him. She slapped him so hard his ears were ringing. "How fucking dare you," she spat, her voice shaking with rage. "How fucking dare you kiss me after you betrayed me like that. You knew. You were planning on leaving. Enjoy fucking Romania. I don't want to see your fucking face ever again."

He tried to grab her, to keep her from leaving, to keep her forever, and she kicked him in the balls, and then she ran, but she didn't make it out of earshot before she began to sob.

* * *

It ended as quickly as it had begun, but it hit him slowly that it was over, really over, and what that meant. It meant not waking up with pink hair in his face, and not pranking Filch, and not being able to convince her to join him in the corner for a quick snog. Everything he had loved about her, and their relationship, 95% of the things he had loved in his life, were over.

He didn't altogether understand her reaction at the time. He knew she wanted to be an auror, and she knew he wanted to work with magical creatures dragons most of all, and even if it weren't Romania, it wasn't like there were lots of dragon reserves on the outskirts of London, conveniently located for her auror work at the Ministry; if it weren't Romania, it'd be someplace else far away. It wasn't like there wasn't floo, or apparation, or port keys, or that he wouldn't be able to see her again.

It was years before he understood what even she had probably not fully grasped at the time. The great depth of his betrayal stemmed not from the fact that he had kept it a secret from her, but from the fact that at nearly 17, she was thinking about starting a life with him, and at nearly 17, he had picked dragons over her without even really realizing it. He loved her, but not like that, not like she loved him.

_"I never want to see your fucking face again_."

She had been good on her word. They lived in the same castle, and though he sometimes saw the back of her head across the Great Hall, she steadfastly avoided him and ignored him when she couldn't avoid him. "I never want to see your fucking face again" remained the last words she had spoken to him.

And then they graduated.

And then he went to Romania.

And that was it.

* * *

_Parts 2 and 3 to come  
_


	2. Romania

_Part 2: Romania_

He loved dragons. He loved his job. He loved the first 12 hours of his day. He was so busy he couldn't think straight, wrangling fantastic beasts. He was constantly amazed, and constantly exhausted.

It was those other 12 hours that gave him trouble. He thought of her constantly. He had broken up with his girlfriend and couldn't even talk to his best friend about it, because she had been both. It was the longest he had gone in his entire life without speaking to her. He didn't even have his other mates to talk to, because he was in Romania. The guys at the reserve were fine for a pint, but he didn't ever want to get to discussing his broken heart with them, and he'd never let them see him cry.

It was the strangest life. Half of his day he was chasing dragons and feeling invincible, and the other 12 he spent miserable and alone. He worked extra shifts to avoid being by himself. And he began drinking far too much on weekends with the other handlers. He got in several fights at bars, but never went home with a girl, although several seemed interested enough.

He couldn't bring himself to even kiss a girl. He'd only ever kissed Tonks in his entire life, and he wasn't ready to let go of that, although they hadn't spoken in months and they were in different countries. He knew it was over, but he wasn't ready for it to be over.

His letters from his mum were a source of comfort. She always included a line, just a line, about Tonks. "Andromeda is well, other than some minor problems with garden gnomes—they've gotten so bold!—and Tonks just started auror school" or "Visited the Ministry yesterday and saw the brightest lime green hair across the atrium—Tonks of course". His mum seemed to know that he needed to hear about her, to know she was alright, but that he couldn't bear to hear too much.

_"I never want to see your fucking face again_."

He still thought about those words. And the way she had cried after. And the limp dishwater blonde hair she had sported for weeks after the fight.

But as sad as he was, he never thought about going back, of finding her in London and keeping her forever. He loved Romania. For at least twelve hours of the day.

* * *

Seven months passed. They had been apart almost as many months as they had been together, although he had loved her much longer than that. He found himself back at the Burrow for Christmas, wrapped in a warm Weasley sweater.

He had very little warning before she re-entered his life.

There was a knock at the door, and his mum got up to answer it. "It must be the Tonkses" she said. He nearly choked on his butterbeer. "Andromeda is a good friend," she added, almost to no one in particular, although she gave him a pointed look.

Then the door was opened, and a cold wind swept through the room while the three Tonkses entered, snow at their backs.

"Happy Christmas!" Andromeda said and she hugged Molly tightly.

He was vaguely aware of his family greeting hers. He was mostly fixated on her, standing behind her parents, looking at the ground. He had never seen her look so vulnerable.

He wanted so badly to hug her. Ginny got up from beside him and scampered over to her, the closest thing she had ever had to a big sister. But he stayed on the couch beside Bill, and after a while, he managed to stop looking at her.

She disappeared at some point after dinner. Her parents and his were still in the sitting room, and his siblings were around the table playing exploding snap, but she was gone. He checked the house and then went outside, despite the snow.

He found her in the yard, under the apple tree, the very same she had climbed at age 4 because she wanted some fruit.

"Hey," he said, aware even as he said it what a lame, pathetic way it was of ending a year long silence.

"Hey," she said softly, although she still wouldn't look at him.

He sat down next to her. "Mums says you started Auror Academy," he said, not knowing where else to begin.

She nodded. "Started in July. Right after Graduation."

"How's it been going?" He asked hesitantly.

She shrugged. "I'm good at disguising myself. Terrible at stealth. Several small explosions may have been directly or indirectly caused by me," she said matter-of-factly.

He offered a weak laugh.

"How's…" she hesitated. "How's Romania?" He could hear the pain in her voice.

"S'okay." He said. It was the best way to sum it up. He couldn't talk about dragons to her. It wasn't fair, even if she had asked.

"Tonks…" He murmured. It wasn't fair to tell her. Not after he had left. But he couldn't bear not to tell her either. "I'm sorry. I miss you so much." He wanted to add that he loved her, still, always, but that would have been too cruel.

She was very quiet for a moment. She was right next to him but there were oceans between them and he hated it.

"London is different without you," she finally allowed. "It's lonelier."

"Are you happy?" He asked, knowing that if she weren't, it was largely his fault, and seeking absolution.

She nodded. "Most of the time," she said. "Are you?" She asked, and she couldn't quite look at him when she asked because she knew it was the biggest two word question she had ever asked.

"Mostly. Sometimes," he said.

She nodded. There was a long pause and he didn't know what else he could say, what else wouldn't make it worse than it already was. "Charlie," she said so quietly that he had to lean forward to hear her, "I think I need a moment alone."

He nodded. "It was good to see you again," he told her. He wanted to hug her goodbye but didn't, and went back inside, because if she needed to be alone, then he owed her the solitude.

* * *

He wrote her for the first time a little over a month later. He tried to keep it light. He told her he missed her, that he hoped auror academy was going well, that Romania in the winter was the fucking coldest place he had ever been. He hesitated but then finally added "the door (well, tent flap) is always open if you want to visit" and sent the letter before he could rethink it.

* * *

She didn't respond to his letter. He hadn't expected her too though.

* * *

It was probably around noon, if the light coming through the door was any indication. He was still lying in bed, trying to sleep off a hang over and bask in whatever cool air was left in the tent. As soon as he opened the door he knew the heat would be sweltering. And it was only June.

There was a rustling outside the door of his tent. He debated between ignoring it and going outside. It was probably just Sal ready to start drinking beer—but the other keepers also might be going down to the lake, which would be a nice reprieve from the heat…

It almost sounded like someone was knocking on the canvas of his tent. It was pretty odd.

He threw on a shirt and rolled out of bed. He was yawning when he stepped out of the tent, and in the bright sunshine he was temporarily blind.

"Wortcher, Charlie!" It was Tonks' voice but he couldn't see her at all. "Blimey, did you just get out of bed, you lazy bum?"

He made a face at her and rubbed his eyes. It really was her. Her pink hair came into focus, her indigo eyes, her big smile. "What are you doing here?"

She shrugged. "You said your tent flap was always open. I just didn't imagine how hard it would be to knock." Her voice was light and happy but he could tell she was nervous. She had come all the way to Romania unannounced, after months of silence.

He hugged her quickly. "Glad you came," he told her. "How are you doing? How long can you stay for? What do you want to do? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Tired?"

She laughed. "I'm ok. I hadn't worked that part out yet. I was thinking a week, maybe? But I might be able to stay longer. It's fucking hot and I'd love a glass of water."

It was wrong. He knew she had auror academy, and that she shouldn't just be able to pop over to Romania for a few weeks, but if she didn't want to talk about it he wasn't going to make her. She was trying so hard to be light and friendly and he could meet her halfway.

"That'd be great," he said. "I can show you the reserve. You came on a good day—I'm off. Come in, come in."

He grabbed her bag and ushered her into his tent. It was a magical tent, expanded to be larger inside, but it was still pretty small with a small kitchen / sitting room, one bedroom, and a squished bath. It was ok for him but two would be tight company.

"Um… ignore the mess." He said, referring to the laundry scattered over the tent and the dishes in the sink.

She laughed. "Then where am I supposed to look?" She gave him a tsk-tsk. "I'll remember this," she promised. "And I'll be sure to tell Molly what a sorry state you're in next time you piss me off."

"Well then I would just have to tell Andromeda about who broke the sugar bowl, wouldn't I?" He taunted.

She laughed. "Charlie, that doesn't work on me. I was an only child. Anything that happened at my house was my fault. I didn't have six siblings to blame it on. She knows it was me."

He frowned. "Fine, but she doesn't know _how _it was broken."

It had broken over a galleon bet that she couldn't juggle. She was so confident in her skills she had used her mum's ceramic sugar bowl. The sugar bowl hadn't made it ten seconds before it broke. Sometimes he wondered how she managed to do so well in Quidditch, or even so much as fly straight.

"All the stories in my house are some variation of "Tonks knocked this over" or "Tonks dropped that." It wouldn't be much of a surprise." She raised her eyebrow at him. "You're going to have to try harder, Weasley. "

He rolled his eyes. "In 19 years of refusing to behave yourself, I'm sure I'll think of something."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Now, what about this reserve of yours? I hear there might be dragons about? Haven't seen any yet. I'm not convinced you're not just out here trying to out-man other keepers with your muscles and tattoos."

He mocked offensive and put a hand over his wounded heart. "Tonks, did you accidentally give your blind eyes? The dragons here are marvelous. Come on, you silly girl. I'll show you the Hungarian Horntail and then we'll grab lunch before I show you around the rest of the reserve."

* * *

The rest of their day was wonderful. It was like they had time-turnered back to their fifth year when they were still just best mates. They didn't mention dating, or the silence that had followed. They acted like nothing had happened, and it was sudden and weird, but he was going to follow her lead. He wanted to be friends with her again, and he hadn't imagined it would work out quite like this, but he wasn't going to complain.

He showed her the Horntail. He took her to lunch and he introduced her to his fellow keepers, who winked at him when she wasn't looking. He walked her around the rest of the reserve after, while the others went to the lake. It was quiet, just the two of them. He showed her his favorite dragon, and the one that had nearly roasted him several times. He didn't let her get too close to that one. He could never be too careful, knowing her.

He ended his tour with the hatchlings. They were his favorites—they could only really blow hot smoke at you and were not very dangerous. He could play with them for hours, tickling their soft underbellies, playing tug-of-war, chasing them around their enclosure. They had four hatchlings, between the ages of 3 months and 2 years. The oldest was about the size of a large dog and was getting too old for the enclosure, but the smallest could still fit in his hand.

Tonks immediately fixated on Corbin, a 13 month old Welch that gave Charlie a hard time with every feeding and bath.

"He's tempermental," he warned her.

She picked him up and held him against her. "He's a sweetheart," she contracted. He licked her neck affectionately in agreement.

"Stupid brute is never that nice to me," Charlie griped. "He once ran around the pen sopping wet after escaping the bath. It took three handlers to get him and he was less than a year old."

She shrugged. "He just has better taste in people."

He stuck his tongue out at her but she didn't notice. She was stroking under his chin. "You're a good boy, aren't you? You know Charlie's just a mean grouchy wizard.

He started to coo for her. She shifted her features until her face resembled his. He cooed louder, and licked her neck again before nuzzling against her, his scaly head against her chin, and then he settled there to cuddle. It was like a really large, scaly, green baby.

"Bloody hell, Tonks, when did you start doing that?" He asked.

She shrugged. "I learned more about morphing at auror training. I can do all sorts of animals now."

She brought her features back to normal and winked at him. "Once, I morphed into this horrible girl from training, Nancy, and then gave her a big nose. She was so pissed. It was hilarious

He was shocked. He'd only ever seen her change her hair and eyes. She was really quite incredible. "That's terrific."

"Thanks," she looked pretty pleased with herself. "Oh, also, Charlie? "He" is a "she". Might be why she doesn't like you."

* * *

At the end of the day, there was a bonfire. The nights cooled down fast, and the keepers built up a fire on the far end of the reserve by the lake. Charlie took Tonks and found that she still matched him drink for drink—but that his tolerance greatly surpassed hers. He helped her stumble back into his tent, and carried her a good bit of the way while she sang loudy and off-key into his ear, and he tucked her into his bed and left a glass of water on the nightstand before passing out himself onto the couch.

He thought she was asleep when she called his name suddenly. "Charlie," she slurred. "Thank you. It's wonderful to be your friend."

He smiled into the darkness. "Anytime, Tonks," he promised. "It's wonderful to be your friend too. Now go to sleep."

But he laid awake long after she began snoring softly. He was determined not to muck things up. He'd be her friend. He'd be excellent at being her friend. They'd stay in contact after she left. He'd finally have his best friend back. He wouldn't kiss her—although, Merlin, how he wanted to—wouldn't ask too much of her, wouldn't complicate things. He wouldn't lose her again.

* * *

The rest of the week passed like a dream. He would go to work and come home and she'd be there. She'd make dinner and then he'd take her to see Dora—she had convinced the reserve to rename Corbin "Dora", after her, once they realize she was right, "he" was a "she". Sometimes they'd share a bottle of wine and talk. Sometimes they'd hang out with the other keepers playing exploding snap and drinking firewhiskey.

She'd been staying with him nearly a week when he walked in without his shirt on. He'd finished up his rounds on the opposite end of the reserve, and it had been a bloody hot walk, mostly uphill.

"Wortcher, Tonks," he greeted her as he ducked into the tent flap. "It's fuckin hot. Fancy a dip in the lake? Or we could try to cast some cooling charms here and hole up for the evening. What do you think?"

She was looking at him but she wasn't paying any attention. She was staying at his bare chest. He smiled.

"Tonks?"

"Mmm hmm?"

"You're _oogling_ me." He was smug and could hardly keep from laughing.

"I am _not_," she rebuffed, but her face was turning red.

He grinned at her. She was oogling him and they both knew it. But he could understand. He had always been in shape, but his muscles had gained even more definition since he started working with dragons, and he was always sporting a nice tan. He had taken off his shirt and given her full view of his chiseled six pack and the dragon tattoo that wrapped around his lower back.

He struck a pose. "Like what you see, love?"

She scrunched up her nose. "S'okay. Bill's a little more sporting, but you're _alright_."

He threw his sweaty t-shirt at her. "Bill is _not,_" he insisted. "Admit it, Tonks, you were _oogling_ me because you find me rather fit."

"I was just admiring your tattoo," she demurred, but her eyes were twinkling with laughter. "Very nice craftsmanship. Hungarian Horntail?"

"Norwegian Ridgeback," he corrected, but he wasn't deterred. "Admit it, Tonks, you were oogling me.

"I really wasn't," she insisted.

She had little warning before he tackled her onto the couch, his fingers tickling her sides relentlessly. "Admit it and I'll stop," he offered sweetly while his fingers inflicting torture on her skin.

She twisted as she giggled and managed to wedge her knee into his stomach and push him off. He fell onto the floor gracelessly and was going to tickle her again when she gave in. "I'll admit you're rather fit," she said as she caught her breath.

He shrugged. "That's acceptable. But I know you were oogling me. Can't blame you. I would too if I were a witch."

"You're so full of it, Weasley," she laughed.

"If by "it", you mean muscle, then yes, yes I am."

* * *

The next day he entered the tent, fully clothed, just in time to for a red letter to fly into the room. They looked at each other in wide-eyed terror but neither could do anything before—

"NYMPHADORA TONKS, YOU IRRESPONSIBLE, INCONSIDERATE WITCH, I HAVE HALF A MIND TO THROW YOU OUT RIGHT NOW AND LEAVE EVEYRTHING YOU OWN IN THE ALLEY. I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU WOULD BE SO FOOLISH AND IMPULSIVE AS TO SIMPLY RUN AWAY TO ROMANIA JUST BECAUSE YOU WERE SUSPENDED FROM TRAINING. YOU HAD ME WORRIED SICK. YOU DIDN'T LEAVE A NOTE, YOU DIDN'T OWL—HOW WAS I TO KNOW THAT YOU WEREN'T DEAD SOMEWHERE? I SHOULD HAVE JUST CALLED YOUR AUROR CLASS AND ASKED THEM TO TRACK YOU DOWN—YOU WOULD HAVE DESERVED THE HUMILIATION. I EXPECT AN APOLOGY FROM YOU, YOUNG LADY, AND DON'T YOU DARE DO THIS AGAIN."

The Howler turned to Charlie. He cringed, anticipating the onslaught.

"And Charlie dear," it began sweetly, as if it hadn't just been yelling at Tonks. "hope you are doing well. Do write your mother more. She worries about you, out there in Romania with dragons."

The howler then exploded.

Her eyes were wide with shock and they met his. She suddenly flushed with embarrassment. "I didn't know you had been suspended," he said, not unkindly, to get the elephant out of the room.

She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "It turns out that there's a limit to the number of minor explosions you can cause."

He nodded. He remembered her in potion's class. "What happened?"

She shrugged. He knew he was bringing up things she didn't want to talk about, but Andromeda had started it. "I got suspended."

"Is that why you came to Romania?"

"That, and I missed you, you wanker." She rolled her eyes as she said it but he knew she was being serious.

He grinned. "How long are you here for?"

She made a face. He was going too far. "I was suspended for three weeks… but my employment is still under review. So… Well, I'm not sure." She wasn't prepared for that one and didn't have anything witty to add, and couldn't disguise her discontent.

He diverted the subject. "So I have two more weeks to convince you that Romania is the best place in the world?"

She laughed. "You can try, but so far I'm not impressed. The dragons are pretty cool and the mountains are lovely, but I haven't seen a single attractive bloke since I got here."

He stuck his tongue out at her. "Maybe we should go down to the lake today?" She mused. "Maybe this time we'll run into someone worth looking at. You haven't hidden all the attractive keepers, have you, Charlie?"

He tickled her sides. "You bloody wench, I know you were oogling_ me_ just yesterday."

"It. Was. The. Tattoo," she insisted between laughs.

"You're a terrible liar," he said and she laughed again.

"You're just _terrible_," she retorted.

He rolled his eyes dramatically. "What a clever insult. I'm utterly flummoxed."

"I know you are, love. It's what happens when you take a dragon to the head too often. It's an occupational haz—"

She fell off the couch at his responding tickle.

She halfheartedly aimed a kick at his balls but he grabbed her foot easily and jerked upwards, lifting until her head, hanging upside down, was eye level with his belly button. She wanted to be mad but it was so ridiculous she just giggled as he rotated her to face him.

"Wortcher, Charlie," she giggled.

"Hi, Tonks."

"Fancy putting me down?" She asked as her face turned red.

He shook. "Nah, not quite yet. I think you should admit you find me attractive first."

She giggled. "We had this conversation yesterday," she reminded him. "I admitted it."

"Yes, but then you went and insulted me again," he reminded her.

"Aw, does wittle Charlie have self-esteem issues?" She said in her baby-voice.

"wittle Charlie is about to drop you on your head," he told her matter-of-factly, and dropped her two inches just to prove his point.

She laughed and he bobbed her up and down a little bit more. He was trying to give her a stern look but he was being so ridiculous even he couldn't help but to grin a little. "Fine!" She surrendered. "You're attractive."

He grabbed her arm with his free hand and pulled up while he let her leg down, carefully setting her straight. "Well, thanks, Tonks, you're rather fit yourself."

She punched him in the stomach lightly and headed out the door.

"Oy, witch, where are you going?"

She turned around, her hand of her hip. She was teasing him. She would have looked far more seductive if her face weren't still bright red. "I'm off to find some wizards who are _actually _attractive. I'll be at the lake. Maybe I'll find a reason to stay in Romania," she winked.

He followed her without missing a beat. He had gone too far, flirting with her, touching her. But he'd be damned if she started to fancy some other wizard in Romania.

* * *

The days at the lake were testing his willpower. He'd watch her flit around in the water, in a bikini, with the other keepers. Her body had changed since he'd seen her last, but only in good ways, and he was still attracted to her like mad. He'd go swimming with her, and carry her home when she drank too much, and listen to her sleep, and it was driving him crazy, but he was determined not to start anything. He wouldn't even presume she wanted to start anything anyway. But t'd be easier to be her friend when she was back in London and her tempting curves, her luscious mouth, weren't right in front of him.

He was determined not to break his resolve. He never imagined she'd break first.

* * *

It was nearly a week later when they were at the lake for another bonfire with the other keepers. The rest of them were pretty drunk and had seemingly forgotten Tonks was there, or else just didn't care, and were telling tall tales of their sexual exploits.

Tonks scrunched her nose at a particularly tasteless story. "Feel like heading out?" She whispered into his ear.

He nodded and helped her up. They slipped out into the dark. She hadn't let go of his hand. He wasn't ready to go back to his tent, to be alone with her.

"I want to show you something," he said.

They stole two brooms out of the supply shed. They were sturdy, quick things, built to help wrangling dragons. He gave her one and lifted off. It was dark and he didn't go too fast, didn't want her to get lost in the dark of an unfamiliar forest. She followed him up a mountain and he motioned for her to set down on a ledge. He landed next to her and sat, his legs dangling off the side, and she followed suit.

"This is one of my favorite places," he said. "You can see the reservation, just a spec of light there" he motioned far to the left. "and the lake is there, reflecting the moonlight, and then, of course, are all the stars."

She hummed in appreciation, taking it all in. High above everything, it all looked so peaceful, so lovely.

She laid down. "The stars are so much prettier here than in London" she told him.

He laid down next to her. His body buzzed where he was touching her, at the side of his knee, his hip, his shoulder. "I come up here when I don't feel like being with anyone else."

She reached up and twisted a lock of his long hair. "What are you saying about me, Weasley?"

He looked at her. He could just barely make up the amber glow of her eyes in the moonlight as she teased him. "You're not just anyone else. You're Tonks."

She was perfectly still just a moment, and then suddenly her hand cupped the back of his head and she rolled over onto him. He barely had time to register it before her head bent down and she was kissing him.

His resolve broke.

One hand found its wait into her hair while the other snuck up the back of her shirt, touching the bare skin of her back. She opened her mouth for him and he tasted her. She tasted exactly like he remembered, everything he had been missing. Her legs were spread over his, her knees outside of his as she laid on him, and he could the length of her body was pressed against his. He dragged his fingers across her back, her sides, he ran a hand up her shirt to caress her breast, he slipped a hand into the back of her pants. He touched her, eager to feel her, all of her. She felt better than he had remembered, better than he had dared to dream.

"Missed you," he groaned against her mouth.

"Take me home, Charlie," she moaned, and kissed him hard on the mouth once more before getting up. He stood and wasted only a moment before he pushed her against the rock face and kissed her again, hard, desperate, seeking. Her hands slipped up under his shirt and he separated from her just long enough for her to pull it over his head before his mouth was back on hers and he knew that they wouldn't make it back home.

* * *

He woke up the next morning on his side. Her leg as thrown over his, and she was caressing his tattoo while she kissed his shoulder. It was bright in the tent. Probably well passed noon. They should really get up and enjoy the day.

He rolled over and captured his mouth in a kiss.

"Wortcher, Charlie," she smiled. Her eyes were warm and brimming with happiness.

"Good morning," he whispered.

By the time they finally left the tent, the sun had already set.

* * *

They spent the rest of the week in various states of undress. He would back to his tent, sweaty and hot, and she would join him in the shower, and then in the bed before a short afternoon nap, and then they'd make dinner together and sometimes they made it through the whole bottle of wine before going back to bed.

Her hair still whirled through different colors. It still fascinated him.

They didn't talk about them. They didn't talk about what they would do if she got called back to the auror academy. He did know that the reserve was looking for someone to work their part time, and part time at a sister reserve in Russia, as a magical liaison. The odds of her blowing anything up in that position were extremely low. But they didn't talk about that. There was so much they didn't talk about. So much they kept not talking about.

* * *

Exactly three weeks after she arrived, a letter came for her. They were both fully dressed for once, and eating dinner at the table, when the owl swooped in to deliver it. She read the envelope and her eyes changes from a warm caramel to a cool grey, and it was a change he didn't miss.

She opened it hastily, read the first few lines, and then dropped it. Her eyes were wide and she looked shocked.

He reached across the table and grabbed her hand. "What is it, Tonks?" He asked gently.

She finally met his gaze. "My suspension is over. They… they want me back."

The air fled his lungs. They wanted her back in London. "That's… great," he said lamely. "That's good."

She bit her lip. "I really didn't think… I was sure I was going to be suspended longer, at least. I thought they might expel me too."

He tugged a lock of her hair. "Course not," he tried to smile. "You're brilliant. Why wouldn't they want you back?"

She stood suddenly and was crying. "I'm sorry, Charlie, I'm so sorry. I really didn't think…"

She really didn't think she'd be leaving him so soon. Because despite the time they'd spent together, she hadn't changed her mind a bit about being an auror. If they'd have her back, she'd go.

He hugged her tightly and swallowed. His throat was tight with tears he wouldn't let himself shed. "S'okay," he said gruffly into her hair. "S'alright."

"You don't happen to want to come back to London, do you?" She sniffled.

But she wasn't surprised when he shook his head no. She knew him. She'd seen him with his dragons.

"Where do we go from here?" she asked timidly.

He pulled away from her. He couldn't be touching her for this part. He'd lose his resolve. He wouldn't do the right thing. He reached out and clipped her chin. "You'll go back to London and be a brilliant auror, and I'll be here, and you'll be my best friend, and you can visit whenever you want."

She nodded. "I love you," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I know I'm doing to you what you did to me, and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

He couldn't listen to her anymore. He couldn't think about it anymore. So he kissed her, hard, even though he really shouldn't have, even though he didn't have a right to anymore, and she hesitated only a moment before she let him, and he scooped her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her to the bedroom for the last time.

* * *

They hardly slept that night, but come 9 am, they were leaving the tent. He walked her to the entrance to the reserve, where the apparation point was. They didn't say anything. They hadn't talked at all the night before. They weren't discussing writing every week and visiting once a month. It was probably better that way. They knew who they were. He didn't ask her to stay, didn't ask her to give up being an auror. He just kissed her forehead and said goodbye and let her apparate away.

* * *

_Reviews are much appreciated._


	3. London

Originally, this chapter didn't exist. It wasn't until I was writing the next chapter that I realized it needed to be here. My apologies for the delay, but in my defense, I was also writing a thesis :(

* * *

The next time they spoke, it was Christmas. He was home for the week, and still debating owling her. She had only come to him in Romania to run away from her failure, he knew. But she had still come to him. And he couldn't bring himself to regret any of the time they had spent together.

And anyway, he wasn't sure he would ever have the right to begrudge her anything. Not after what he had done. Not after how he had left her. She might have left him in Romania, but he had left her first. She wouldn't have been able to leave if he hadn't left her to begin with.

Her patronus came to him at the Burrow. He was lying awake in bed when it burst through the door.

It hadn't changed. Not since their fifth year. But this one was weak, and blurry. "Charlie" she said, and her voice was frail. "I'm at St Mungos. Can you come for me? 3rd floor."

* * *

His socks didn't match and his shirt buttons were wonky when he opened the door to her room.

She was pale, and bloodied. Her eyes were closed. All of her looked tired. He had never seen her so fragile. It killed him. It was worse than being with his mates and getting injured at the reserve. This was her. It was Tonks.

"Tonks," he whispered as he stroked her hair. "Tonks. Wake up, sweet girl. Tonks, please."

Her eye lashes fluttered. "Hi," she yawned. "Took you long enough, you prat." She was trying to be funny, to give him a hard time, but she could barely keep her eyes open and her voice was quiet and strained.

He couldn't help himself. He kissed her forehead for longer than he should have, cradling her against him. "I was so scared," he whispered. "Are you alright?"

She nodded slowly. "We were attacked…" She trailed off. "I think… I think John died," she told him, and her eyes were bright with tears she was fighting. "I brought us here…I'm ok… the healer said I had to have someone here to discharge me… I'm sorry, I couldn't owl my mom right now, and Kingsley… Kinsley is telling John's family…"

He kissed her forehead. "Of course. Of course, love. I'll always come for you." He kissed her forehead again. He couldn't help it. It made her feel real. And when he kissed her forehead, when he couldn't look at the rest of her, he couldn't think about how close to death she seemed.

"I'm going to get the healers," he said. "And I'm going to sign you out, and then I'll take you home, love, ok?"

He found a healer in the hall. She gave him a long, sad look but reassured him that Tonks would be fine. She gave him care instructions and a number of potions and he listened diligently, because she was trusting him, and he could not let her down, and would not let her get hurt further.

She looked slightly more awake when he came back in.

"Alright, I've got your potions, and the instructions, and your bag of personal items, and I've signed you out. Is there anything else? Do you need anything? Am I forgetting something?"

She shook her head. "No. But I blocked my floo, so you'll have to apparate us to my flat."

He nodded. He put the bag of potions on one shoulder and then slipped one arm under her knees and the other behind her head. He was light in his arms. Lighter than she had been the last time he carried her. He knew apparating in her condition wouldn't be pleasant, and he counted down for her softly. "Three… two.. one."

Her flat was a one room studio and an absolute mess. He managed to kick a pile of clothes off her bed while still holding her, and then set her down as gently as he could.

He was going to make her some tea and toast but she wouldn't let go of his shirt. "Stay," she whispered.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised. "I'm just going to get you some tea."

She shook her head. "No. Stay. Right here."

He couldn't argue with her. He finagled a spot on her bed between her and a pile of shirts. She curled up with her head in his lap, and he pulled the blanket over her and stroked her hair.

* * *

He sat up sleepless the rest of the night. He'd wake her up just enough to get her to drink the potions when she needed to, and then let her go back to sleep on his thigh.

She was hurt. And her partner was dead. It scared him shitless. It opened up a floodgate of emotions he hadn't even thought he'd ever feel.

He'd convince her to quit. He'd bring her to Romania with him, and keep her there, safe. She'd like the reserve. She could probably get a job as an administrator, or in town, or even for the Romania Ministry. She'd be good at it. She could like it. She'd play with Dora every day, and cuddle with him every night. She'd be safe. No one would try to kill her. No one would almost _succeed_ in killing her.

And if she was stubborn and stupid and she refused, he'd come back. He couldn't make her quit her job, as much as he would try to, but he could be trained to be her partner. He could live with her and make sure she was safe at home. And every day he could beg her to quit, to do something safe. To not be a bloody idiot.

They could get married. He had a suspicion she'd thought about it before, and seeing her like this, he realized he wanted it too. He had never before realized that she could be gone, she had always been a given in his life, and seeing her so hurt made him realize he didn't want to spend any more time apart from her. He had some money saved up. He'd get her a ring—something nice, but not flashy, and he'd spell it to her hand so she couldn't lose it. And their flat would be a mess, always, and it wouldn't do her any favors with her clumsiness, but it'd be ok. He'd probably do most of the cooking and his mum would send over leftovers too often and they'd have dinner at the Burrow on Sundays. He'd make her laugh when she was sad and he'd make sure she was happy and he would keep her safe. He would protect her. He would love her, up close, again, finally.

And kids… there would maybe be kids one day. They'd be like her. They'd all drive him crazy, changing their hair color every five seconds. And clumsy. They'd be clumsy. They'd probably buy a little one story house just so the kids couldn't fall down the stairs. They'd probably always be getting into trouble, and she would probably let them. They'd all probably be Hufflepuffs, and Molly would be disappointed that the Weasley legacy hadn't been passed on, but not really disappointed, and mostly just happy with their grandbabies.

He'd take care of them. All of them. They'd be happy, and they'd be safe.

* * *

She woke up ten hours later to find him still awake and stroking her hair.

"Charlie," she whispered. Her throat was parched and she cringed. "Charlie."

He bent over and kissed her forehead. "Hi, love" he said. "How are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "Stiff. Achy. Thirsty. Could you get me a glass of water, actually?"

He magicked her a glass of water and helped her sit up slowly, mindful of her head.

"How long has it been?" She asked.

"Nearly half a day." He told her.

"Oh my god." She suddenly flung the covers off of her and tried to get out of bed. He wrapped an arm around her middle and kept her in place.

"Oy, where do you think you're going? You still have two rounds of potions to go."

She was struggling against him. "I have to go back to work."

"Tonks, you just got out of the hospital. You're not going anywhere. They'll understand."

She shook her head. "_No_. They're already understaffed and the death eaters are getting out of hand and they'll need me, especially now that John—now that John is—"

"_No_, Tonks."

She stopped struggling and looked at him. "You can't tell me what to do, Charlie."

He had planned how to say it better. He really had. While she had been sleeping, he had planned that she would wake up slowly, and cuddle into him, and wake up in his arms. She would give him a sleepy kiss, and he would ease her into the idea of being his girl again. He would tell her that he would take care of her, and she would let him.

But now she was resisting and that wasn't the plan, and he was a dragon-tamer, and not exactly a man of subtleties.

"Tonks. Stop. This is crazy. It's too dangerous." He was trying to sound authoritative but mostly he just felt scared.

She momentarily stilled in his arms. "I'll be ok," she whispered.

"No, you won't. Your partner is _dead, _Tonks, and last night, you looked like you were about to join him."

He heard her exhale, shuddering. She was hurting inside and out. "I'll be ok," she whispered again, sounding far less convincing.

Her back was still to him but she wasn't pulling away anymore. "Quit," he said. "Quit and come with me to Romania. You can work at the reserve, or for the government. You can see Dora all the time. We can be together again. The tent is small but it could be cozy. We could make it work. I could love you. You could be happy. I could keep you safe." He was making demands and promises to her, and he started slowly, but with each passing second was talking more quickly and her head was spinning.

His body was cupped against her, his front firmly against her back, and she could feel every contour of his muscles, and the heat radiating from him was burning her. It was too much, all at once. All of it.

"Charlie…" she breathed. "No. I can't."

She could feel him shake his head behind her. "Tonks. Please, love, let me take you away from here."

She pulled away suddenly. She couldn't. She couldn't be that close to him anymore. "No, Charlie," she said with more conviction.

He was still sitting on her bed and he straightened his spine and looked at her with determination. "Fine, then. I'll quit. I'll come back. I'll train and I'll be your partner."

"It doesn't work like that," she said, exasperated, but she wasn't saying no, he noticed. "You have to be accepted to the auror academy. You have to go through training. You have to be assigned to a partner."

"I'll do that, then."

"Don't."

He stood up. He didn't understand her. "Tonks—Tonks, I never want to see you hurt again. I love you. I'll do whatever I have to for you to be safe. I'll take you to Romania. I'll stay here with you. What do you want?"

Too much. She felt weak and overwhelmed. She turned away from him. "Go home, Charlie," she managed.

He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "_No_." She hissed.

"Tonks!"

"I –_can't_, Charlie," she ground out. "I _can't_ do this with you."

He turned her around despite her best efforts. He was desperate. "I'm sorry, Tonks. I'm sorry it took me so long. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry this happened to you. But I'm here now. I love you. _Please."_

_"I can't!" _She was nearly hysterical and her eyes were glossy with unshed tears. "I don't want that. I don't love you like that anymore. I can't."

Her admission was killing him. He could feel it viscerally. He felt the pain in his heart like she had run through him with a broadsword, and besides the pain was the delirious weakening of blood loss.

"Why did you call me, then?" He breathed.

She couldn't look at him. "They wouldn't discharge me without someone coming to get me."

"But you called _me_. Not your mom, or your dad, or any of your other friends." He insisted.

"Because, Charlie! Because I did, ok? I don't know."

He shook his head. "That's not good enough. Why didn't you call any of them, Tonks? Why did you call _me_?"

"Blood loss and sedatives," she quipped, hoping to divert him.

"Tonks." His voice was hard, and unyielding, and it would be her undoing.

"What do you want me to say, Charlie? I don't know why I called you."

But she was lying and they both knew it. "You _do_. Why did you call me to come for you, to take care of you, to hold you and to stay in your bed with you, if you didn't love me like that?" He was close to her. He was pushing slowly closer to her and she was running out of space and she could feel the anger and the pain radiating from him.

She didn't know what to say. It was hurting her and it was killing him. She could handle death eaters and raids and danger, but she couldn't handle him in her room, in her bed, loving her again, and she snapped.

"Because!" She cried. "Because I trusted you to not love _me _like that! I didn't think it would hurt you to see me hurt and scared, because I didn't think you loved me anymore! Because my parents and friends are already scared shitless for me, but I thought you, of all people, _you _would understand that you get hurt and dust yourself off and get up again and I didn't think you would be too distraught about it."

It hurt. It hurt her to say and she could see it was hurting him even more, but she had to keep going, she had to tell him, now. "I gave up on us, a long time ago, Charlie," she said, and she was trying hard to be gentle. "I loved you so much. All I wanted when we were in Hogwarts was to marry you and be your family and be with you all the time. Living without you was killing me, and I knew I could be miserable for the rest of my life without you, or I could move on. And it was hell, and I cried the first time I kissed someone new, but I had to, if I wanted to survive without you, and you gave me every indication I was going to have to survive without you. You never flooed, you never wrote, you just left, and then you let me leave, and you never _fought _for me. I thought you had given up. I thought you didn't love me anymore, and so I shouldn't love you anymore either."

He kissed her abruptly. He wasn't gentle, despite her injuries. His weight was pressed against the bruises on her ribs and his lips were searing against her own. He had her shoved against a wall and he was touching all of her. He was taking one last kiss, one last reminder, because he knew he'd never have another chance.

He didn't pull away until he felt a wetness on his cheeks and realized she was crying.

"I loved you so much, Charlie," she whispered. "I wanted the world with you. But you're years too late."

He felt himself close to crying himself and began to plead with her. "Please, Tonks," he murmured. "Please, I love you."

She shook her head and her shoulders were shuddering with sobs. "I'm sorry, Charlie. I love you, still, always. Just not like that."

He closed the distance between them again and held her tight. She hugged him back. This was it. He had always imagined that she would be there if he wanted her. But she was stubborn. She had been stubborn loving him, being angry with him, loving him again, and then giving him up. He'd had no idea. "I love you too," he whispered into her ear. "I always will. Just 'like that'."

She sniffled. "You should go, Charlie."

He nodded. He was choking on her words and his despair. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't feel. She pulled away, and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek, and he apparated away before she could break his heart again.

* * *

This one poked me in the heart. Let me know your thoughts.


	4. Romania, again

I'm a big fat liar. There is still one more chapter. But it's written! So it should maybe only take another year to post.

* * *

It was raining. Charlie was lying in his tent and listening to it. It was nearly midnight and he'd be up at six, but the rain made it hard for him to sleep. Something about the damp chill sank right into his bones and not only was it cold, but it also aggravated old wounds. The ache in his collarbone, where he'd broken it falling in quidditch, was the worst. He was trying to decide between getting up and getting a salve for it or staying in his bed, which had finally warmed up. At least the sound of the rain was nice.

There was a weird noise beyond that though. It sounded like someone was walking down the muddy mess of the central walkway, their feet squishing and squelching as they slogged through it. Which would have been dumb, because even the dragons were tucked in for the night. It stopped near his door, and then the canvas of the tent flap began to shake.

He got up and threw on a robe. He tucked a wand into the sleeve, just in case, because Mad Eye Moody had pestered him about constant vigilance. He opened the flap of his tent, and there she was.

It was raining hard and she was soaking wet, from the top of her mousey hair to her mud-caked feet. He pulled her inside, out of the rain, before he had even said hello.

She was crying. He hugged her tight, even though she was soaked, and she was shuddering in his arms from the cold and her own tears.

"I'm sorry, I know this is inappropriate, because we're ex-lovers but you're also my best and oldest friend and I really needed my best and oldest friend right now," she cried into his shoulder.

"I'm here," he said. He brushed her hair out of her face to look at her but she couldn't meet his eyes. "Of course I'm here for you. What is it? What's wrong?"

"Why don't the men I love ever love me back, Charlie?"

Her question stung but he knew she didn't mean for it to. She was talking to her best friend, not her ex-lover.

"What's wrong with me?" She continued. "Am I horrid? Am I ugly? Am I mean? Or do I just subconsciously chose men I know won't love me back because I'm afraid of commitment? Am I afraid of commitment?"

He kissed her forehead. "There's nothing wrong with even a single hair on your head, whether it be pink or brown. You are wonderful. Don't doubt that for a minute, love."

She sobbed and shook her head. "Then why—" she choked on her own tears. "Why doesn't he want me?"

He held her close. "I don't know, love," he whispered. "I don't know. I'm so sorry."

He scooped her up and took her to the couch. He cradled her and covered her with blankets while she cried into his shoulder. He kissed her cheek and whispered that everything would ok, and slowly, very slowly, her tears abated but she was still cold and wet, shivering against him. He had learned from dragons when to be tender and when to be tough. Right now, she was like a hatchling being cradled in the palm of his hand. She needed tender.

"Alright, love?" He whispered.

She nodded hesitantly. "Why don't you take a hot shower?" He suggested. "You're freezing. I'll get some dry clothes for you, and make you some tea. Ok?"

She consented to being led into his bathroom and he started the water for her before giving her privacy. He made her tea and heated up his leftovers from dinner.

She was back. And she was in love with someone else, someone else who was also breaking her heart. He hadn't even known she had been involved with anyone. He tried to think if she had mentioned anyone, or suddenly developed any new friends, but he couldn't think of anyone. It made him feel slightly queasy. He told himself it was because no one could possibly be good enough for her, but he also knew he couldn't bear the thought of her being with someone else. They had always been a possibility, despite everything, and he had always thought that maybe, one day, it would finally work between them. He had assumed that if he ever went back to London, permanently, she'd be there for him, despite what she had said. But that wasn't fair. She deserved to be happy and he hated that she was going to be happy with someone who wasn't him but that was selfish, and he couldn't expect her to wait forever. She had found someone else. And he wouldn't let her get hurt twice.

He wanted to put a sleeping draught in her wine, just to be sure he had enough time, but she was an auror now, and he knew she'd notice, and he may have been her best and oldest friend, but she could hex him into tomorrow. So he gave her the bed and snuck out as quietly as he could when she was asleep.

* * *

He didn't know how to get to Remus so he apparated home. His house was quiet when he knocked on his parent's door.

"It's me, dad," he whispered. "Everything's fine but I need a favor."

Arthur was a man with seven children, and being woken in the middle of the night was not particularly unusual for him. He let his wife continue sleeping and he rolled out of bed and patted Charlie on the shoulder before pulling on his robe.

"Good to see you, son," he yawned. "What's this favor?"

His father aparated him to Remus's house and left him at the doorstep.

"He's a good man, Charlie," Arthur reminded his son. "Take care. And do write your mother more, won't you?"

Charlie nodded and his father aparated back home.

* * *

It was dark, and cold. It had been two am when he left the reserve and now it was one in the morning in London with time change. Charlie hesitated a moment, thinking of what would happen if he went home and crawled back in bed with her and never let her leave, and then he rang the bell.

Remus answered the door a few minutes lately with his wand at the ready.

"Charlie?" He asked, bleary from sleep.

"Hello, Remus," Charlie said. "Care to let me in? It's cold as balls out here." He could see his breath. He hadn't exactly checked the weather before he left.

But Remus didn't open the door. "How did you get here?" he asked instead, cautiously.

"My dad apparated me in." It sounded so juvenile when Charlie said it out loud. It was almost like being 5 and asking "daddy, will you take me to the ice cream shoppe?"

Remus frowned, evidently not pleased that Arthur had use his security clearance for this purpose. "Why are you here?"

"Because Tonks is my best friend."

Remus considered this a moment and then finally opened the door.

Remus showed Charlie do a dilapidated sitting room but neither sat. "Have you seen her lately? How is she?" Remus asked awkwardly.

"Honestly? She's a mess. I've never seen her so distraught and lonely." Charlie was being honest, but he was also angry that Remus had left her that way, and he wanted to make it clear than he thought Remus was a dick.

"It's for her own good," Remus insisted.

"Bullshit. If you don't want her, don't make excuses about it."

"It's not "bullshit". She's a great girl. I bloody love her. I love her enough that I'm not going to saddle her to some sad older bloke who won't ever be able to hold a steady job. Remus threw his arms out and pointed at the room. "This is where I live. Everything I own is threadbare and half-broken. There are hovels better suited than this. She deserves to live somewhere—"

"You're an idiot if you think that matters to her."

"It will matter!" Remus insisted. "It will matter when people she's known all her life stop talking to her because she's become a social pariah with me. It will matter when once a month, there's a real danger I'll attack her in her sleep and _wouldn't even remember it in the morning_. It will matter when there is literally no research on the children of werewolves, but it very well could kill her. I can't offer her a decent life. _It's for her own good." _

"That would matter for another girl. Any other girl. But Tonks doesn't care about the stuff and doesn't care about the status. She wants you. She's never going to feel like this was the right thing. You're not protecting her, you're breaking her heart."

Remus snorted. "Breaking her heart so much she falls right back into your bed."

Charlie didn't hesitate. He didn't even realize he was going to hit Remus until his first had met its target. Remus stumbled but managed to stay upright.

"Don't ever fucking talk about her that way," Charlie swore. "She's in love with you, your bloody asshole. She came to me because I'm her best friend. But she doesn't love me. For whatever fucking reason, she's in love with you. She showed up at my door half sick from crying and half sick from the rain, and it's still you she's in love with."

"She should—"

"Doesn't matter what she "should" or "shouldn't." She'll do what she wants. You'll say yes or you'll break her heart. There's no in between." And Charlie knew, deeply, how true that was, and it was a truth that stabbed in his gut.

Remus couldn't think. His head was buzzing from the punch but he couldn't muster any anger. "What do you want me to do?"

* * *

She slept long into the next morning, and then sat listlessly at his table slowly grazing on a plate of breakfast. He sat quietly across from her, absorbing every line of her face and counting down the minutes. He knew she was terribly heartbroken, and he wanted her to feel better, but gods, he didn't want her to go. Every minute ached.

A little passed eleven, there was a knocking sound against the canvas of the tent. Charlie had a last minute daydream of pretending to ignore the noise, but nodded his head to the door. "You should get that," he told her.

She shot him a funny look. "It's your house."

"Get the door, Tonks."

She frowned but got up. He could hear her irritation in the scrape of the chair against the floor. She stomped across the floor and then stopped dead in her tracks.

Charlie excused himself with the dishes. He tried to make as much noise as possible so he didn't have to hear her yelling and crying and then kissing. He could hear them kissing and it was killing him.

* * *

After an age, Tonks slipped back into the tent. "Thank you, Charlie." She said. "I'm not pleased about the black eye, but thank you."

He hugged her hard. "Don't be afraid to come back if he doesn't treat you right. I just want you to be happy."

"I know," she whispered, and she kissed his cheek.

Lupin was in his doorway. He gave Charlie a grateful but not quite happy look, and Tonks slipped back out of his arms. "I'll write," she promised.

"You won't, but it's ok. I'll see you at Christmas," he said.

She laughed. "See you at Christmas."

And then hand in hand, they just disappeared, and Charlie couldn't help it when he flung a teacup across the flat. It shattered and the sound was almost satisfying. His only consolation was that Lupin's black eye had grown more pronounced since the previous night. And Tonks had been happy.

* * *

True to her word, she did write. Not often, but a few times. She wrote not long after her visit to tell him she was happy and he was treating her well, and that his bruise had faded. A few months later, she wrote to tell him that she had moved into his house. Charlie realized he would never see her awful messy studio flat again.

A few months later, she wrote to him that she had eloped. He was standing in the mailroom and at first he felt nothing. Nothing. He lost sensation of his body and time stopped and the floor wasn't beneath him. And then, just like when he had fallen in Quidditch, the pain flooded into his body after only a moment of numbness. The ache in his chest exploded.

He didn't know what to do with himself. He didn't know where to go. He faltered for a moment, once the pain had ebbed a little. He left the mailroom and walked to Dora's enclosure.

He looked at the beautiful dragon and thought about when Tonks had visited when she was just a hatchling. And then he crumpled the letter and threw to Dora, who promptly set it on fire. It was gone within seconds. He hesitated a moment more, and then went to get a drink.

* * *

The next time he saw her was over Christmas break at Grimmauld Place. He saw her when he walked in, and Bill, his very best brother, made a small scene of welcoming Charlie in and pulling him into the kitchen for a beer. After a few beers, the prospect of seeing her didn't seem so bad and he let himself wander into the living room with Fred and George.

Several hours and a few more beers later, he went to the loo upstair. Instead of going back down, he sat on the top step. He closed his eyes and felt it all. The noise from downstairs—the noise of his friends and family- swimming through his ears. The sturdiness of the stairs beneath him, the hardness of the banister against his temple where he leaned. The deep, tired, ache in his bones, from everything. He knew she was down there, somewhere, feet away but a lifetime apart.

He felt it all.

He didn't even hear the footsteps approaching. He didn't know she had been upstairs until she was sitting beside him on the stairs. She hesitated and left a few centimeters between them.

"Hi," she said.

He managed a smile at her. "Hullo. Whatcha doin hiding up here?"

"It was just getting to be a lot." He nodded. He could understand. She scrunched up her nose. "Actually, it was just that my mother was getting to be a lot."

He laughed. That he definitely understood. "Beer?" He offered.

She shook her head. "No thanks." She opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped, and then gave him a long look. He watched as she glanced down to her belly, and then back to him, and he knew, the instant before she said it.

"I'm pregnant, actually," she was excited, under her layers of nervous and uncertainty, he could tell. "Not very far along. Not far enough along to be sure. We haven't even told anyone yet. We wanted to wait until the first trimester had passed. It's not even two months yet."

He grabbed her arm around and kissed her temple even though it felt awful. "That's amazing." He told her. He deflected the serious thoughts with a joke. "You'll name it Charlie, I'm assuming? Boy or girl. Doesn't matter. It's a great name."

She laughed. "I have not met one single bloke named "Charlie" that ended up alright. I don't want to curse my baby."

He put a hand to his heart and acted hurt "You wound me deeply madam. And as if you yourself won't be a curse enough. I won't be surprised if you break more dishes than your child—and then blame it all on the poor babe."

"How rude. I would only use the baby as an excuse when I acci-purpo-dentally break the creepy little figurines my mother keeps pawning off on me from my dad''s mum. Frightful little things."

He laughed. She leaned into his shoulder and was quiet a minute. "Remus wants to ask Harry to be the godfather," she said suddenly. "I don't think I can object. But promise me something, alright, Charlie?" She sat up to look him in the eye. "Promise me that if something happens to me, that my baby will grow up knowing me. Promise me that you'll tell the little thing all about me, and take it on adventures, and play with it like I would. Harry is great. But Harry doesn't know me. You know me."

She had started to cry just a little bit. He wiped the tears out of her eyes. "Of course," he whispered. "Of course I will."

She owled him when she passed her first trimester, and then when they found out the sex of the baby. She was having a little boy, and she was thinking of naming it after her dad. He wrote back that he still thought "Charlie" was a great name, but he knew that she would never, ever be able to name her child "Charlie."

All of it was killing him. She was having a family and a life without him. She was his best friend and the love of his life and she was someone else's wife, and sooner she'd be someone's mum. She was growing up and settling down and moving on and he was still drinking through most of his days off and screwing girls he met in pubs and resenting them for not being here.

* * *

He came back for the battle. She was headstrong and willful and he was grateful that she wouldn't be there, not with a newborn at home.

* * *

But she was headstrong and willful and when he saw her body in the great hall everything inside of him broke.

* * *

He could not remember a time before her, but suddenly the future opened up horribly as all the time after her. There would be no second chances. He had been in love with her since he was 12 years old, too young to properly understand the love he felt, too young to handle it appropriately. She was supposed to be there when he realized what his love had meant. And even when she was with someone else, living a life without him, and least she was alive, at least she was there.

She had been Remus's wife. Teddy's mum. But his girl. Always, always, his girl.


	5. The End

What I thought would be about an 8 page short story ended up being about 50, including the bits I had to leave out. So here's the last part, brought to you by Adele's new album _25_.

* * *

He took his role as de-facto godfather very seriously. He made sure to stop by no less than once a month. Sometimes it was the only time he left the reserve that month.

He had never been so terrified of anything as he was of that baby. He would make Andromeda help position his arms right, and then she would pick up the baby from his crib and place him into Charlie's arms and roll her eyes because she thought he was being ridiculous. He would ignore her and stare at Tonks' beautiful baby and sometimes read him stories. When he was happy with the story, he would turn his hair red to match Charlie's.

* * *

He would have been afraid of the baby for several more years, had the baby not become a rambunctious toddler. Teddy managed to topple himself out of the crib and on to the floor right in front of Charlie, and Charlie's heart nearly stopped and the boy lay still on the floor. Charlie was sure he was dead. He reached down, and suddenly Teddy popped back up.

"Book now?" He asked his Uncle Charlie.

Charlie was much less afraid of the boy being fragile after that.

* * *

He began to drive Andromeda crazy, showing up unannounced on a Saturday and whisking Teddy away for afternoons at the parks and zoos, and feeding him too much ice cream and bringing him home high on sugar with mud on his clothes. She would cluck disapprovingly at Charlie while she had Teddy take off his muddy boots and overcoat on the front step before he went in the house, but she never made good on her threats to turn them both out on the streets.

* * *

After several years and much cajoling and a little bribery, Charlie convinced Andromeda to let him take Teddy to the reserve. Teddy had just been sent his Hogwarts letter after months of confiding to Charlie that he wasn't sure he was going to be sent a letter.

Charlie took him first to Dora. The dragon was at the peak of her adult life, but would likely live another 30 years. For Teddy, it was love at first sight.

"She's named after your mum," Charlie told him. "Actually, your mum named her after herself. We had named him Corbin, because we thought we was a boy—dragons don't like to let you close enough to check carefully—and she was the first one to realize "she" was a "he". She gave herself the honor of naming the hatchling as her namesake."

Teddy giggled but then stilled. "Uncle Charlie, you knew my mum a very long time, didn't you?"

Charlie nodded, although Teddy was still looking at Dora. "As long as I can remember, bud."

Teddy was very quiet for a moment, and then asked slowly, haltingly, "what… what was she like?"

It was so unfair. It was not a new thought, but one that plagued him often, how unfair it was that he didn't know, that he had lived his life on second-hand information about his own parents. How unfair it was that this little boy didn't get to know his mother at all, when Charlie had known her so well and done her so wrong. He hadn't been able to love her like a wife, but he loved her son like a father.

After a long, painful pause, Charlie said, "she was the coolest girl I ever met."


End file.
